Yarn of Togetherness
by EsotericFemale
Summary: A collection of drabbles about Klaus and Caroline both together and apart, based on daily writing prompts.


A/N: Daily writing prompts to help me work through my writer's block while working on The Apple of Discord. Post VD Season 5 finale, and TO Season 1 finale.

_Writing Prompt: What is on your character's shopping list and why?_

Klaus Mikaelson hated to shop. It was tedious, mundane and downright boring. Why should he-an all powerful immortal hybrid-make a trip to the grocery when he could compel others to do his chores for him? Besides, he didn't even need to eat to survive, he did just excellent on blood alone, thank you very much. And yet, he found himself standing in a grocery store scanning over his handwritten list with disdain.

Butter  
Milk  
Cream Cheese  
Parsley  
Manchego cheese  
Cheddar cheese  
Old Bay seafood seasoning  
bread crumbs  
elbow macaroni  
crab meat  
One pound coffee  
pound cake  
Fresh peaches  
sugar  
Whipping cream  
Moscato  
Romaine lettuce  
Spinach  
Feta cheese  
Italian Vinegarette  
Cooking spray

Klaus was making crab macaroni and cheese with a fresh, simple salad and a dessert of pound cake with peach topping and homemade whipping cream. It was as simple as he knew how to do without ordering in, and he figured that his dinner guests would appreciate him paying homage to a classic comfort food staple as macaroni and cheese. Or course, it went with saying that he was trying to impress the woman of his affections, but he didn't want to go too over the top. She'd made it very clear that she didn't appreciate when he was being over the top and showy.

It was odd, not only that Klaus was doing his own shopping, but also that he was shopping in bulk. Of course he knew how to cook. While food wasn't a neccisity for him, he often used it in entertaining, and he enjoyed a quick bite of human food time and again for fun. He typically hired chefs or caterers for his bigger affairs, and reserved cooking to when he was trying to woo a woman into his bed. This time, however, he was using his culinary skills to show support to a family grieving.

News of the elder Salvator brother and the Bennett witch passing had reached Klaus in New Orleans. He knew the moment the information came to him that he needed to do something to comfort Caroline. And that's why he was here now, after finishing his shopping trip, in Mystic Falls, breaking into her house.

He knew she and the sherriff would be away for hours at the memorial service, and had heard that the so-called "scooby-gang" would convene at the Forbes' residence afterwards. He set to cooking his meal swiftly, knowing that he was in fact limited on time. He prepared the pasta and put it in the oven, and set to preparing the whipped cream and the glaze of the pound cake and peaches. While he waited for the macaroni to finish baking, he drew a quick sketch of Damon and Bonnie, standing side-by-side, smiling and wrote Caroline a quick note at the bottom. Once finished, he sliced the pound cake, and opened the bottle of Moscato to breathe. He quickly threw together the salad, and took the macaroni out of the oven.

His timing was perfect; just as he was finishing displaying his offerings on the kitchen counter, he heard a set of cars pull into the driveway. As the keys rattled in the doorlock, he slipped out the back door.

Caroline walked into the house and was immediately assaulted by the smells of what promised to be a delicious meal. She left her mom, Elena, Stefan, Matt, Jeremy, and Tyler in the living room as she walked into the kitchen to investigate. It took her no time to find the sources of the aromas, and the hand drawn picture with the note sitting beside a bag of freshly ground coffee, and a sliced pound cake.

_Sweetheart, I hope you and your friends enjoy the meal. My condolences on your losses. I am but a phone call away. With affection, Klaus._

Caroline turned to the doorway to the concerned faces of her friends with a sad smile on her face.

"Whose hungry?" She asked.


End file.
